


Neera: Little Prequels, Sequels, and other snippets after Neera Part I

by SwissPear



Series: Neera [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Angst, Developing Relationship, F/M, Family, Parent-Child Relationship, Plotty, Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:47:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27291433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwissPear/pseuds/SwissPear
Summary: A shunned Mandalorian searches for a way back to her people. Mando is going to find it’s hard to maintain the air of mystery when someone knows more about his culture than he does.Part II: Small prequels, sequels, and other snippets after main story in 'Neera I'(most chapters contain no Warnings, but will mark individual chapter notes)
Relationships: Din Djarin & Original Character(s), Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Neera [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992661
Kudos: 36





	1. Prequel: Little Din

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> copied to Prologue of Neera I

Neera was painting something on her armor with the tin of grease when he walked in with the kid. She watched them playing, absentmindedly reaching over to draw something on Din's armor while the kid was chasing after the ball.

He looked down at the star she had left on his breastplate. "Why did you do that?" he asked. 

She shrugged. "For the kid, I guess."

\--------

Little Din chucked the ball against the wall again. In the months since he had ended up here, he had discovered that this was by far the best wall. The stone was rough, and it sent the ball careening back at unpredictable angles. It was almost like having someone else there to throw it back to him. 

The practice helmet he wore shifted every time he lunged for the ball. It was slightly too big for him, and he had to hold it in place each time he dove for the ball. Sek had told him the real one would fit better. 

He still hadn't told Sek what he had decided, but when he did, he would be resolute and confident, and Sek would know he had picked a kid who would be a good fit. He was going to do it soon. Any day now. 

Sek kept reminding him that whatever he decided, he would still have a home, that he could always stay here with Magda. Din wrinkled his nose at the thought. She smelled like spices and onions and would sing out of tune and muss his hair while she made him help with the cooking. And she saw when he still cried. The few times he still had nightmares, she would come running in. He would have been fine without her, but then she would hug him and stroke his hair just like his mom used to; it made him feel like a little boy. He hated it. She would be sad when he made his decision; he knew she would miss squeezing him with hugs and tussling his hair, but she would have to be strong. 

They weren't really nightmares anyway. He had had nightmares before, and this was different. The images were always there; he just that, at night, he just had nothing to distract himself with at night. He was fine when he was training or practicing fighting; Magda just needed to let him do those things. Sek had let him try throwing a grenade once. The smell and sound of the explosion had been like a little piece of the nightmare images he could look at, feel one bit at a time in the light of day. 

He threw the ball again when he saw a ship coming overhead.

Sek would come looking for him. It was a perfect time to try out his new hiding spot and see if Sek could spot him. 

Din crawled up to his new secret spot in the tree. At first, Sek had played at being encouraging during their games of hide-and-seek— 'sniper and scout' as Sek called it—but later, he was honestly impressed. He said Din had a natural talent for laying perfectly still and blending in with his surroundings.

Din wanted to show him this spot, but it was also too good to give up. The leaves moving in the wind perfectly hid any shapes and movement within the limbs, allowing him to lay relaxed against the branch while still within earshot of the landing pad. 

The ship landed, hatch opening to reveal another one of these armored people walking out to survey the field. The figure disappeared back inside, and then five kids came tumbling out. They all looked somewhere around his age, all armored and in helmets, or at least practice helmets in the littlest one. Each kid immediately snapped to attention when the adult figure walked back out. He could tell it was a woman; he knew how to tell that despite the armor. Her armor was a royal blue, six stars painted on the breastplate.

The kids playfully elbowed each other to stand at attention. Din bet they had been trained in the same things Sek had taught him. They would probably be impressed by this hiding spot, and he bet they wouldn't be able to find him the whole time they were here. 

The woman walked out to meet Sek, who passed right under the tree on his way out to meet her. She was looking around, asking him something, and he looked around as well but then shook his head and shrugged. 

They were talking for a bit. She seemed to be asking him something, but he just looked down, then soberly shook his head. She responded with only an understanding nod. Finally, she reached back to a bag, pulled out a shining silver helmet, and presented it to Sek. That seemed to catch a few of the kids' attention, who were now attentively staring at the exchange. Sek put a hand on the woman's arm, then took the helmet from her. 

Din turned his attention to the kids as the adults continued to talk. He smirked when they still had no idea he was there. The smallest one, who looked to be about four or five, had found Din's forgotten ball on the ground. A bigger kid looked to see what he had, then promptly started throwing it to the other big kid. They kept throwing it over the little kid's head, either ignoring him or taunting him while he ran back and forth to try and get it back. There was something wrong with his leg, and he ran with a limp. 

Din watched as one of the middle kids leaned over to whisper something to the other. The next time the big kids threw the ball, the two middle kids promptly grabbed the little one's legs to hoist him high enough to finally intercept the prize. One of them held onto the little kid and ran but immediately tripped over his own big feet, sending them both tumbling down. Laughing, he shouted to the little kid to keep running while he tried to grab the ankle of one of the big kids now giving chase. 

The little kid did what he was told and took off with the ball across the nearby field. Din could see the oversized helmet bobbling along in the field with the kid's awkward little run. 

Din turned back to see the other middle kid holding off the remaining big kid. They started wrestling, the middle kid finally managing to pin the bigger one. There was a shout of "You're cheating!" from the bigger one, the middle kid shouting back, "Am not!" It was a girl's voice, and she only let up on her pin to stop and argue with the other one. 

"You're not allowed to mix fighting styles!" the bigger kid argued. 

"That's stupid," the girl shouted back, immediately going for his leg to throw him on his back again. 

"Mom!" the bigger one shouted. 

Sek and the woman were still talking when she turned to see the chaos behind her. Cursing, she gave Sek an apologetic exit and turned back to the kids. 

"Someone stop your brother before he runs off a cliff or something!" she shouted when she realized the little one was still running away into the field. "Where is he going?" she muttered to herself as she jogged back to the chaos. 

One of the bigger kids finally ran to snatch up the little one, taking him by the hand to walk him back. 

They all immediately snapped to attention when the woman—their mother—reached them. She sternly knelt down in front of the little one and held out her hand to see what he had. He bashfully handed over the ball that wasn't his so she could return it. She set it down, then promptly tossed him over her shoulder; he was giggling and trying to keep his helmet on as she stood up, left hanging upside down along her back. She took her other hand to pick up the middle boy under her arm, playfully toting them both back to the ship. She told the one to wave goodbye for her, and she also called out a final goodbye to Sek before hauling the two of them back to the ship. 

One of the bigger kids took the opportunity of their mother's turned back to chuck the ball at the girl. She managed to dodge it, then tried to chase after it when her mother called her away. She hesitated as the ball bounced back to her, then turned and acquiesced, catching up to the rest as they disappeared inside. The ball rolled after her and only stopped when it hit the edge of the ramp. 

This whole time they hadn't seen him. If they ever came back, he would have to show them this spot and how good it was. He could show them how he had been able to watch everything completely undetected. 

When Sek walked back under his hiding spot, Din latched onto the branch with his legs to swing upside down and appear right in front of Sek. He could see enough response to tell that Sek had been surprised. 

"You missed our guests," Sek pointed out.

"I was watching," Din said.

Sek reached out to help him down. "And do you know why they were here?"

"To bring a helmet for me," Din answered.

"That's right. Have you thought more about what we talked about?"

Din just shrugged. "Was that woman a general?" he asked instead.

Sek seemed surprised. "No, why?"

"The stars on her armor, she had six stars," Din explained.

Sek looked back where the woman with 6 stars and 5 children had been, then glanced at the helmet in his hand. "No, that's not what that meant. I'll— I can explain that later," he hesitated. "She has a different kind of status."

"Do you have any stars?" Din asked. 

"I used to have one," Sek said under his breath, more to himself than to Din. 

"If she's not a general, then what kind of status?" Din asked, proud he used the same word.

Sek laughed, "Community." He paused when he saw Din's confusion. "She's nice. Ferociously so, if others are nice back. If not, she's just plain ferocious. People want to be on the side of a person like that. She gives people an excuse to be kind."

Sek stopped walking and knocked on his head. "Do you want to see the inside of one of these?" 

Din nodded eagerly. Sek popped him up to sit on the barrier behind them and handed him the helmet. It was surprisingly light. 

"Would I train with kids like that?" Din asked as he studied it. 

Sek hesitated. "Not those kids, but I will find you some others."

"Why not them?" Din asked, turning the helmet over in his hands.

Sek was quiet for a bit. "I don't like the way their Clan trains," he finally explained. 

"The little one doesn't walk very good—"

—very well," Sek corrected.

"—very well," Din repeated. "I thought you said you had to be strong to train."

Sek nodded. "He'll have a hard time. Kids born into the Creed won't have the same choice you have. The girls can take care of the young ones, become nannies, but the boys will have fewer options. His mother will do what she can to prepare him, but there's only so much parents can do." Sek stopped and looked at him. "You know that now, right? Parents can do everything in their power, but the world is still a dangerous place. We all have to do our part to protect ourselves and those around us."

Din didn't say anything. Sek turned from him to look over to the house where Magda was watching them, looking none too happy. 

"Magda hopes you will stay with her, get all the hugs you need to feel warm and safe, but hugs don't keep us safe, do they?" Sek asked.

Din frowned and threw a stone at the ground. "She treats me like a little boy," Din complained.

"You are a little boy," Sek snapped. "And little boys can learn to do a lot, while also still missing their parents." 

Sek sighed, then sat down next to him. "Want to try it on?"

Din gave him a questioning look. 

"You can still take it off until you swear the Creed," he assured him. "Do you understand what I mean by the Creed?" Sek asked. 

"You wear the helmet all the time," Din responded. 

"Sort of. It means we put aside our worries, fears, the stories we hoped for ourselves, we put them aside, and we fight," Sek explained. "Even when it means putting aside our own traditions," he trailed off, but Din was already distracted with studying the helmet. 

Din looked up. "Fight for what?"

Sek sighed. "That's...the hard part. You have to trust you'll know it when you see it. Until then, we keep sharpening our knives," Sek added with a playful tussle of Din's hair.

Sek stood and took the helmet from him. "What do you think?" he said, raising the helmet to hold it up for Din.

Din looked back at where the group of kids had just been playing, then turned to Sek and finally nodded. Sek lowered it on his head and gave it a playful knock. 

Behind them, Magda wiped her eye and turned to walk back inside.


	2. Post-story snippet: Blaster vs. darksaber

"I still don't understand how a sword is a match for a blaster," he said. He was leaning against the counter, eating some breakfast while he watched her try to affix the darksaber to her armor.

She gave a smug smile, standing up to square off with him. All of her armor was already on except for the helmet still on the table.

"Shoot me," she dared him. 

He stared at her and blinked.

Smirking at him, she pulled on her helmet, about to reach for the blade with a "Trust me, I—" when she felt a hit throw her backward.

She stumbled against the wall, cursing at the dull pain in her chest from the blaster hit. Scrambling to stand, she could see the blaster still smoking on the counter next to him. 

She grimaced. "Really thought you would have hesitated a bit more than that."

He looked up from taking another scoop of food. "Nope." 

That made her laugh, a crooked smile growing on her lips as she took him in. "My mistake," she apologized playfully. She regained her stance, then made sure to draw the darksaber first this time. 

"Now try."

He put down the bowl and raised the blaster again. 

The blade blocked the shot, absorbing the energy with its own. Frowning, he tried again, each time she deftly blocked him, advancing on him with each swing of the blade. 

Finally, she slipped right through his defenses, a breathless grin when she brought the blade right to his throat. 

He raised an eyebrow at the impressive demonstration. Then glanced down. She followed his gaze to see his vibroblade already drawn against the tiniest gap in her armor. 

She sighed, retracting the blade and pulling off her helmet. 

She pushed an accusatory finger against his chest. "A vibroblade is not a blaster," she pointed out. 

He gave a soft laugh, putting the knife away to instead rest one hand on her waist while the other studied the cylinder of the darksaber. 

"So are you going to show me how to best fight against one of these?" he asked, studying it.

"Slugs, projectiles…" She thought for a moment. "Do you like to use your flamethrower?"

He raised an eyebrow. "...A little," he admitted.


	3. Post-story snippet: Triangles

She looked up from the dense Jedi book to see him coming back down from the cockpit. The tray was still full of food as he walked it back to the counter. 

“Wouldn’t eat?” she asked.

He pulled a large knife from his boot and began carefully cutting the bits of meat again. “He likes them cut into triangles now,” he explained as he studiously re-cut the angles of the little squares of food. 

She stared at him. He looked endearingly ridiculous in the full suit of armor, scrunching up his arms to use the normally menacing knife to cut the food just the way the kid liked it. 

He still wore the full armor much of the time. Neither of them was used to being around another person this much, and it was a small ship. It gave some semblance of space in these early stages, and it made the eventual touch that much sweeter—or maybe he just liked it when she eventually tried to take it off later. 

She turned the page of her book. “I really want to go down on you right now,” she remarked casually.

The knife tripped ever so briefly. It was the tiniest hiccup before he went back to steadily cutting the food. 

“Well, you’ll have to wait until I’m done,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“Fine,” she responded, turning another page.

“Good,” he responded back.

She went back to pretending to read the book while he continued diligently cutting each bite of food. There was a final scrap of the knife sliding against the board as he gathered it all up and put it back in the bowl, then he committedly climbed back up to the cockpit.

When he came back down, she set down her book, got up, and hooked one finger in his shoulder belt to pull him in closer then push him against the counter.


	4. Prequel: Teenage Din

“I’m heading out to train with Oni,” Din called out as he walked past Sek and his friend. She and Sek had been working together on building the new addition for a while now.

“You’ve been training a lot with Oni lately,” Sek pointed out.

The annoyance was palpable in Din’s voice when he responded. “Yup. She wants to make it to the academy,” he deflected, trying to grab some food and get out of the room as quickly as possible. 

As soon as Din had slipped out, Sek’s friend looked up from her work. “What percentage of their ‘training’ do you suppose is just two teenagers dry humping?” she asked. 

That made Sek pause, putting down his work to tilt his chair back and yell into the next room. “You know she can’t make it to the academy if you get her pregnant, right?” he called out.

The only response was an exasperated curse; then a slammed door as Din walked out.

With a short laugh, Sek went back to his work, feeling satisfied. 

His friend was still staring at him. “That’s it?” she asked.

Seeing her look, he shifted awkwardly in his seat. “I’ll talk with him about it later,” he finally relented.

His friend sat back and gestured at him to give it up. “You had better practice it on me first,” she said with a short laugh. “No offense, but you don't exactly have insight into the needs of a teenage girl, especially a Mandalorian one.”

Sek rubbed his neck and gave a deep sigh, setting down the work before attempting to clear his throat.


	5. Sequel: Neera's background

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Chapter has underage or dubious consent  
> Chapter can easily be skipped w/o taking away from the rest of story

Din frowned while he tightened the bolt. “You keep talking as if you were fighting for your life during training. Training was hard, but it was never that bad.”

Sitting on the floor next to him, Neera held the joint in place for him while he worked on maintenance. She had stolen one of his more grease-stained shirts for the job, not that he really minded, though. 

Shifting her position to find a better hold on the equipment, she gave a harsh laugh. “I have a feeling you and I had very different training experiences,” she said. 

He rolled his eyes. “And why is that?”

“Well, I was sleeping with my trainer for one,” she said matter-of-factly, half of her attention now on her search for a vice grip. 

He pulled his head out from the repairs and squinted at her, but she just went back to the task without adding anything else.

“...You’re going to have to explain how those two things are connected,” he pointed out before immediately interrupting himself. “ _How_ old were you?” 

She glanced over at him. She loved being able to see the frustration on his face.

“I had my helmet; I was of age,” she said simply. 

When she saw he was still staring at her, she hesitated. “Eh...it was complicated,” she deflected.

He hung there for a moment, then sighed, and ducked back into the repairs. There was a frustrated clanging on some equipment before an audible curse, followed by another sigh. Finally, he pulled himself back out from the repair, leaned his head back against the wall, and turned to look at her, too distracted to keep working now. 

She squinted at him as he waited for her to explain, not really sure what to say. Then she shrugged, going back to the repairs to have something to do as she talked. 

“He was supposed to be one of the best, would brag about winning in some hand-to-hand combat against a Jedi. At the time, I felt lucky that he picked me to train under him,” she explained. “He was hot shit; I thought I was being bold.”

She watched as Din pursed his lips and then went back to a quieter repair, but she could tell that he was still listening. It was intriguing: the idea of being able to just talk with someone. Watching him, she decided she might as well dip a toe in the water. 

She went back to clamping a vice grip on the joint. “He, of course, had been subtly encouraging it all along. So, no, not a good man,” she admitted. “Someone whose main goal in training is teaching you to just grit through the pain generally does not make a very good first partner.”

That was met with silence. When she snuck a glance over at him, he was staring at the wall with his jaw tight, and she suddenly worried that this was too much information. 

“Are you thinking of how you’d like to murder him right now?” she asked.

“...little bit,” he admitted.

She gave a short laugh. “Don’t worry; he was well-humbled in the end. Last I heard, he went off to hunt some Mythosaur hoping to regain his pride and ended up rather unceremoniously squished.”

He went back to ratcheting a wrench on the pipe but still looked tense.

“I pretty quickly realized it was not what I wanted. It was just so...boring or cold, I dunno. Plus, that was _all_ he wanted to do; I was barely even training anymore,” she said. “When I finally said I wanted to focus on training instead, he disagreed, and we would fight it out,” she explained matter-of-factly. “So, in the end, I at least got the no holds bar training I had been looking for and learned to fight with real consequences. Though I think he was surprised when I kept showing up every day,” she added. 

Din rubbed his face at that. “You kept going back?” he asked, sounding a bit tired. 

She made a face, wrinkling her nose. “I wasn’t going to sit at home and miss out on training with one of the best just because he happened to also be an ass,” she pointed out. “Besides, that’s exactly the type I needed to learn to beat so he couldn’t do the same to anyone else. The relationship may not have been what I was looking for, but I did learn to fight better than most.” 

He shook his head. “But the days you couldn’t beat him…” he started.

She shot him a look. “I said it was complicated; I like a challenge.” 

Din sighed, standing up to wipe the grease from his hands, a pacing energy underneath his show of putting tools away. 

Neera watched him as she spoke. “He didn’t take it well when I eventually started to win. I don’t think he realized that I had been holding back at first,” she continued. She left out why she had held back at first, how he laid out the rule that whoever won got to choose what they did each day, how she had let him win at first rather than admit she was too inexperienced to even know what she wanted.

She leaned back to sit against the wall while Din wiped his hands on a towel for the second time, then leaned both hands against the counter to stare at something. “He took it too far one day, and I ended up defending myself with the powers, whatever you call them. His threatened to out me. I pointed out that I could out him just as easily,” she explained. 

Din was still staring at something on the counter. She couldn’t tell if he was thinking, or angry, or just staring at a tool he needed to fix.

‘It’s not some deep-seated trauma,” she assured him. “More...disappointment; childish expectations met reality a little sooner than most.”

Straightening from where he leaned at the counter, he rapped his fingers hard against the surface, looking around and seeming unsure of what to do with himself. Finally, he grabbed a piece of fruit from the counter, slid against the wall to sit down next to her, and emphatically placed the fruit in front of her.

She cocked an eyebrow at the fruit. When he saw her questioning, he quickly grabbed it back, aggressively peeling it before pulling out some sections and sliding them over to her on a plate. She had to bite back a smile at the odd but determined gesture.

From his place sitting next to her against the wall, he agitatedly popped a piece of fruit in his mouth. 

“It sounds lonely,” he pointed out.

She shrugged. “I could have had support any time I asked for it. It’s not like I didn’t know other girls that had trained with him: my cousin, a friend’s older sister. I don’t know why he didn’t realize that we all talked to each other. We all agreed we would back each other up if he ever took things too far or stopped being useful.”

She took a piece of the fruit and leaned back against the wall with a chuckle. “My mother would have absolutely murdered him if she had still been around and found out what was happening.”

Din unhappily sat back to eat another piece of fruit. 

“What happened to your mother?” he finally asked. 

Neera just shrugged again. “Suicide probably. She was gone soon after my second little brother fell in training. Not that anyone ever talked about it.”

He was looking somewhere to the side, seeming to be lost in thought. “What did her armor look like?” he asked. 

That made Neera smile. “It was blue, and she would paint it a star for each kid on it. She always made up some story that each star was for a battle, kills, or something. Anything so they wouldn’t tell her to remove one when my first brother died, but we all knew what they were for.” Then she frowned. “Why?”

He looked to be considering something for a second, then finally just shook his head. 

“No reason,” he said. 

Then he stood up, turning to offer a hand to help her up so they could see if the kid was up.


	6. Prequel: Neera meets the Jedi

The little girl giggled, the tips of her hair grazing the grass as Neera dangled her upside down. Resmi still hadn't said a word to anyone since leaving her family, but at least Neera could make her laugh.

When Neera saw Benon coming over, she swung the girl back up, giving her a quick raspberry on the belly before sending her off to join the other kids. Benon gave the girl a quick pat on the head as she ran past him, his light earth-color robes somehow still perfectly clean and crisp despite the dusty planet.

Neera pretended to go back to folding the fabric piled on the cart as he approached.

"We will be leaving tomorrow," Benon said. "We've stayed too long, and it's time for us to take the younglings to the Temple."

"Oh?" she said, acting nonchalant. "Is it a long journey to the Temple?"

He looked at her, then sighed. "When are you going to ask if you can join us?"

Her head shot around, trying too late to recover her indifference by going back to innocently folding the yards' of cloth.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"There's no point in hiding it, Neera. We've been able to sense it in you the first day we arrived here."

She didn't say anything while he continued to look her over.

"What are you?" he continued. "17? 18?"

Neera frowned. She always thought she looked older than her age.

"You're too old for training, and we have more potential trainees than we know what to do with. But I can see that you are good with the young ones. We could use your help back at the Temple to look after them."

Her pride finally got the better of her. "You want me to be your nanny?" she asked with a dry laugh. "Like some girl who couldn't make it through training?"

"I'm offering you a home," he said with a somber patience.

"I have a home," she protested.

"And yet you're not there," he pointed out, voice softer. "I can still see the bump in your hair from where the helmet would have rested. How long has it been since you removed it? Months? Weeks?" he asked.

He cocked his head at her. "There's no going back for you, is there?" he asked.

When she didn't say anything, he continued to press. "You are good with them. And we could use someone like you. And not to be just a ‘nanny’. You could teach them how to defend themselves, how to fight."

She cocked an eyebrow at that. "To fight whom exactly?" she asked, voice layered with bitter amusement. "Mandalorians? Do you really think I'm going to train them just so they can grow up to fight my own family?"

"The Jedi are peacekeepers," he said.

That made her laugh. "Then you don't need a Mandalorian with you," she scoffed. "You _just_ asked me to help teach them to fight."

He was silent for a bit. "Why are you following us if not to join us?"

She crumbled up the cloth that just wouldn't fold quite right, throwing it down. "Maybe I needed to see you all for myself. And you know what? You're nothing but another group of zealots separating kids from their parents, preaching another cold and distant life. As if attachment is a bad thing. You're not any better, are you?"

Frustrated, she bent to pick up the cloth that had fallen to dust on the ground.

"I can tell you care about them," he pressed as she tried in vain to brush the dust off the cloth. "Resmi wouldn't even smile until she was around you."

"Maybe that's because you just took her from her family," Neera pointed out.

His mouth grew tight. "You act like we're snatching children away. They all chose to come with us."

"She's four," Neera shot back.

"These lessons have to be learned young," he tried to explain.

"What lessons?" she laughed. "To give up 'attachments'? As if that's a good idea for a bunch of children? As far as I can tell, you can still lift things with your mind just as well without needing to separate families."

He finally relented, only giving a sad smile when he saw her obstinance. "I don't expect you to understand now," he said patiently, "but you could."

He gave a final pat on her shoulder while she doggedly kept her focus on the work in front of her. "We will be coming back through here within the year if you change your mind. You would be welcome to come with us," he offered.

He turned to walk back to the others, then paused when he saw Westli coming over the crest to see where they both had gone.

Benon looked at the young man, then turned back to Neera one last time.

"And If you don't come with us," he called back to her, "at least stop pretending that you're just using that trader's boy to get close to us. We can all tell you're smitten with him."

He continued back towards the camp, giving Westli a knowing smile as he passed him. Westli responded with a confused look before walking over to Neera.

"Hi," was all he came up with when he reached her. "What was that about?"

She couldn't help but crack a smile. He had that same crooked smile plastered on his face, a spot of ink smudge on his forehead as always. She remembered when he had asked to kiss her. Something about the sweetness of it had seemed so bold.

"Nothing," she shook her head. "I was just saying goodbye for now." She could take a few months before she decided anything.

And she stayed. It was all surprisingly natural. They would spend time at the market to bring back food to his family, his mother finding ways to criticize her cooking, which was...fair. On the cold days, they would stay buried under the blankets, each trying to convince the other to be the first to get up. It was all so easy. Someone could stay like that forever if they let themselves.

And then one day, the Jedi were due to return, and she still didn't know what she was going to tell him.

When he walked in, she got up, as usual, to wrap him in a bear hug and strip his coat off of him. She still got a kick out of the dopey grin on his face every time she greeted him.

This time was different, though; she could immediately tell something was wrong.

Sliding her hands away, she stepped back to look at his face. "What is it?" she asked.

He wouldn't look at her at first, only briefly glancing up at her before shifting on his feet. Finally, he spoke up. "The Jedi. Benon, Dostoga…," he started, "they're gone, all dead."

"No..." she dropped into a chair, a hand immediately pressed against her mouth. She remembered how harsh she had been to Benon the last time they spoke. There was suddenly the panicked thought that maybe a Mandalorian had killed them.

She rubbed her face in her hands, shaking it before looking back up at him. "The children must be devastated," she realized.

He still wasn't looking at her. Why was he still not looking at her?

Westli shifted on his feet, still looking to the side. "No, Neera," he finally forced himself to say. "All of them: The kids, Ola, Resmi, all the Jedi,...everywhere. Someone slaughtered all of them."

There was a feeling of sickness rising in her throat before she even registered what he had said. Instead, she just squinted at him, still just staring at the wall when he came over to sit next to her.  
\-------------------  
"Where are you going?" he asked when he found her stuffing her armor into her bag.

"Home."

"You said they would kill you," he pointed out.

That made her pause; she didn't really have a solution yet. "I'll figure it out on the way," she said.

There wasn't a moment where she stopped picturing what would have happened if she had been there, what happened when she wasn't. Sometimes she wished she had never seen their faces. The draw of the helmets suddenly made a lot more sense to her: never having to imagine the confusion and fear on faces when they realized they were about to be cut down.

"There's war everywhere," he pointed out. "How are you even going to get through?"

She just kept packing.

"Just stay," he asked quietly. "You know you can just stay."

She kept cramming items into her bag. "You must have known I was never going to be happy doing your family's books forever," she said with a rush.

That came out harsher than she had meant it; the look on his face told her that it had stung.

She finally stopped her onslaught of packing for a moment. "You could come with me," she offered, realizing as she said it that it would never work.

He shook his head. "My family's here," he pointed out. "And you know I would not exactly fit in with yours," he added, gesturing to the helmet still in her bag.

She looked to the side, then swallowed. "If it all goes to shit, and they still hate me, I'll come back. But I have to try."

He was looking away, not saying anything, but then finally nodded. They hugged, and then she grabbed her bag and left.

\------------------  
It was too late by then. When she got back, the Siege had already burned its way through Mandalore, a blockade barring any transport on- or off-planet. It took everything to convince a smuggler to get her through and back home—not that was not entirely voluntary on his part.

When she got there, there was nothing but a burnt-out shell. She lingered there too long, wandering through the rubble to find a trace of armor or any other memories of home.

Being picked up for looting by some stormtroopers was probably the most practical option for her. It gave her some time to sit in prison and push her food around her plate, letting the depression wash over her until she figured out what to do with herself. At some point, she heard that most of Westli's town had been conscripted into the new Imperial army, or whatever they were calling themselves now. It's not as if being together with a prison escapee would do him much good anyway.

Then there was the day that one of the prison gangs finally tried to make a go at her. One of them saw her never eating her food and tried to steal a muffin off her tray.

That was met with a deft fork in the eye—which was particularly effective considering that the gang leader watching nearby was a cyclops. It was perhaps a bit over the top to then wink at the leader while sitting there and calmly eating her muffin, the first woman still writhing on the ground in front of her, but it was the first time she had actually enjoyed her food in a while.

After a few more instances, most tried to stay out of her way. Unfortunately for them, she soon realized that finding a fight was the one thing that would wake her up.

She stayed there until she found a reason to leave. In the end, it was the guards and the prison itself that ended up being the biggest challenge.


	7. Prequel: Teenage Paz

Paz and his older brothers ran into Neera in the infirmary. She had a compress pressed to her hip and a bottle of pain pills in front of her.

“Again?” Paz’s older brother asked, taunting her. “This is the second time we’ve found you in here this week. Training not quite going as easy as you had expected?”

Paz waited for her to deftly point out that he was also here, probably from mishandling his jetpack again.

But instead, she just ignored him. She ignored them a lot lately. Ever since she turned old enough to swear the Creed, things had changed. Paz had never felt so apart in age from her, even when she was now just 14 to his 12. It suddenly felt like a huge difference.

And all she wanted to do anymore was train. Yeah, she had gotten good, but she never wanted to hang out anymore and was always in a bad mood. The last time he had asked her to spar with him, she had just snapped at him until he got the hint and left.

At first, it had stung, but now he just rolled his eyes. His brothers grabbed what they needed and went to leave, Paz staying behind for one last jab at Neera.

“Don’t worry, Neer,” he said. “We can’t all be good at everything,” he teased, wrapping his arms around her in a hug just to annoy her.

When her shoulder shook, he had thought she was just laughing at him. It took him a minute to realize she had started crying. He pulled away to look at her when she just turned into him.

He stood there confused when she just sobbed into his shoulder.

“I miss mom,” was all she got out after a while.

He hesitated, then finally hugged her back.

\--------------------

Later they sat on the porch of his cottage, seeing if they could throw rocks to hit the sparing post in the courtyard. It was the first time they had just hung out like this in a long time.

He watched his rock bounce off the post but missing the one specific mark he was aiming for. He had a theory he’d been working on, and he wanted to bounce it off of her.

“I think mom was arguing with Uncle Pre before she was gone,” he said hesitantly.

Neera was quiet for a bit. “Mom was arguing with everyone,” she pointed out.

Paz hesitated. “Maybe he—,” he started.

Neera sighed, interrupting him. “No one could have made her do anything she didn’t want to. At least not without a fight. If she had wanted to stay, she would either still be here, or she would have fought—and it would not have been quiet,” she said. She threw another rock at the post. “Dead or alive, she chose to leave,” she said bitterly.

He was quiet at that. Neera twisted in her chair, trying to stretch out her side under the compress.

“Is training really that bad?” he asked.

Something about the way she stayed quiet made him feel the differences in their age again.

“I hate losing,” was all she said, picking up another rock to chuck at the post. She seemed to be thinking about something after that, then turned to him.

“There’s one hold I can’t get out of,” she started. “I could use some help practicing it.”

“Now?” he asked. It must have been close to midnight already.

“Why not? I could really use the practice before my session tomorrow.”

They stayed up late until she could get it right. When they were done, he went inside to get something and came out to find her passed out on his porch. He covered her with a blanket and made sure to wake her up in time for her training the next morning.

After that, she was nicer to him, occasionally even asking him for help training on something. Every once in awhile, he would find that she had crawled over to his porch to pass out for the night. He made a habit of leaving a blanket out for her, just in case.

Over the years, he noticed how she would start grumbling about Pre: how he held the blade too loose on the backswing, how he always veered right. Her requests to train with Paz got more and more specific, and it wasn’t hard to guess what she was building up to.

And then he knew all the same moves as her. And now he was also bigger. And _he_ wouldn’t have to risk revealing himself as anything other than a Mandalorian.

But on that day, when he came to, she was gone.

They said she had outed herself as an enemy. That she had tried to take the darksaber when she had the chance. That, failing, she had thrown off her helmet and went off to join the Jedi.

He didn’t believe any of it...but she also wasn’t there. She wasn’t there, and her helmet wasn’t there either.

No one could have made her leave without a fight.

She had just left. And she had left right when things got really bad.


	8. Prequel: Din after the Siege

Din paced. He didn't know what was taking so long. They had been held for weeks after the Siege, only to be suddenly released for no reason. Except for Oni, Oni had been held back. 

Din had come with her to the capital when she started at the Academy. He should have known something was wrong when Sek came to visit. Sek hated the capital. Hated the politics, hated its loose hold on traditions, and most of all hated the foreign diplomats who he said abused their powers to meddle in the lives on Mandalore. He said those 'Peacekeepers' had grown too arrogant to bother with an open fight anymore. 

But he had come anyways, tense the whole time as if expecting something. Not long after, the Siege had started. They had stood together until they saw the ships amassing at the Academy training fields.

"Oni," Din had realized.

Sek looked back at the fighter ships gathering.

"Go," he said, turning to head back into the fight alone.

Din found a field of Academy recruits under fire. It didn't make any sense; they were mostly kids, barely trained. 

Amidst the chaos, he had found Oni, doing her best to cover a bunch of the younger trainees. He had managed to help them get out, only to be overwhelmed by Stormtroopers soon after.

All of Mandalore had been overwhelmed. It wasn't even clear who was attacking or who was even in power anymore. This was something new. Whoever it was, they had held them for weeks after the Siege.  
And Sek was gone. That was something he hadn't been able to process yet.

Now they had suddenly released them, all but Oni. Din had found a way out: one lone smuggler who had slipped through the blockade to smuggle in someone with clearly lousy decision-making skills. The smuggler was now eager to find someone to pay for a trip out to make the journey worthwhile. A group was making their way out; they could fall back, regroup, and figure out who exactly this fight was against. 

But they were running out of time. The ship would have to leave soon. 

Pacing, he heard the door open behind him. Oni walked in, glanced up at him, then hesitantly shut the door behind her. 

He started toward her. "Are you—" 

"I'm fine," she said, quickly trying to calm him. 

Relieved, he quickly glanced out the door to see if anyone was watching. "We've got to get going. I've got us a spot on a ship—"

"Din," she interrupted him. 

"They agreed to save us a seat, but we need to hurry," he kept talking in a rush, quickly gathering their things. 

"Din," she said again. "Everything's fine. It's good actually," she said, with an odd tone of optimism.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. 

There was a blush of pride in her voice. "They've offered me a position to help reform the Academy." 

"No," was all he said. 

"This is a good opportunity," she argued. 

"It's working for the enemy," he protested. 

She shook her head. "Clans take each other over all the time; that's been the way for centuries. We always follow the strongest, the one that wins."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I left Sek to come back to you, and now Sek is dead." 

She was still shaking her head. "We have a peace treaty. Mandalorians will still have autonomy over Mandalore."

"It wasn't some peace treaty!" he shouted. "We lost the battle, and they didn't have to give us anything. The Republic, the Empire, whoever this is, they are just setting up a puppet government, using you. You must see that."

That seemed to make her angry. "And where exactly do you suggest we go? How many other options do we have? What are you going to do, take off the helmet and become a farmer? Or maybe make a living as a mercenary?! Either way, you're still fighting for someone else." 

"There are other options," he protested. 

She scoffed. "You'd be fighting for nothing,"

"Not having anything to fight for would still be better than fighting for them," he shot back. 

She was just shaking her head. "You're just saying that because you don't like it here. You never have. You would rather us go off to some back-hole planet instead of stay in the capital...back somewhere with no politics, no compromises, just your simple traditions. Hell, half the people don't even wear their helmets all the time here."

He stared at her, carefully enunciating his words. "They slaughtered a bunch of untrained recruits. Children. Your classmates. And you forget all that the minute they offered you a shiny title."

"We have a peace treaty—" she started again. 

"It wasn't a goddamn peace treaty!" he shouted back. 

She just stood there and didn't say anything in response. 

"The ship is leaving in a few hours," Din said. "There is a place for you on it if you still want to fight, instead of working for them. But I am not staying here."

With that, he walked out. 

\-----------------  
The ship was almost full now, but Din still managed to hold the empty seat next to him. 

There was a commotion outside the door. A large Mandalorian with two kids was arguing with the smuggler. 

"I don't have the room," the smuggler protested. "I can maybe take one or two more, but there's no way I'm taking you all."

"Fine," the large Mandalorian said. His voice was younger than Din had expected; he was probably about Din's age. "Just take these two at least; I'll find my own way."

The kids walked onto the ship, hesitantly looking back at the older one, but he waved them forward. 

Din eyed them as they sat down. They had the clean armor of Academy recruits. The first one's armor would have been free of any knicks or scraps except for a large, fresh-looking, singed burn mark on one side. The other kid was missing a hand. 

"Here," Din interrupted. "You can take this place," he said, moving over an inch to indicate the seat next to him.

The large Mandalorian stared at him, then nodded, walking in to take the seat next to Din. 

The smuggler closed the door, grumbling something to himself about how everyone trying to get on and off this planet was nuts. 

One of the Mandalorians sitting across from them leaned in to whisper something to his seatmate.

"Speak up," the large Mandalorian next to Din growled. 

"You're Paz Vizsla, aren't you?" the one across from them asked. 

"Why do you ask?" the man next to Din shot back. 

"We saw someone you might know rummaging through the remnants of your old home," the other Mandalorian explained. 

"Everyone from my old home is dead," Paz responded bluntly. 

"She had your name," the other Mandalorian pointed out. 

There was a long pause. "What exactly was she doing there?" he asked.

The other Mandalorian shrugged. "She was apparently rummaging around for remnants of armor and some old valuable weapons or something," he explained. "Stormtroopers had brought her in for looting." 

Paz was silent for a bit again. He leaned his head back against the wall. "Then good," he said. 

None of them spoke further. They were all silent as the ship took off, taking one last look at Mandalore before they crossed through the blockade. 

There were the occasional attempts at a coup after that. Din joined some at first but found that he could never get attached to any of the doomed rebellions. There was really no one there for him to go back to anyway, no hook. 

The outer rim seemed just as good a place as any. In the first few years, he would find more and more Mandalorians showing up as they were pushed farther and farther out. At some point, he realized there were more Mandalorians off Mandalore than on it. The stories they brought with them showed that nothing had gotten any better. Then there was the Purge, and fewer and fewer Mandalorians showed up over time. 

In the end, he only knew of a handful left. The old traditions suddenly were the only remnant of home to go back to.


	9. Prequel: Neera meets a Mando

Neera looked up when she saw a Mandalorian walking through the door.

It was becoming rarer and rarer to see one nowadays. Unending rebellions and civil wars had taken out many, and now there was a rumor the Empire had just decided to get it over with and wipe out whoever still remained.

This one cooly leaned against the wall, waiting for his pick of the litter while the other bounty hunters squabbled over the easier targets. Neera watched him from her shadowed corner of the cantina. His armor was painted a matte black; he was tall and lean and seemed completely unflappable amidst the chaos of the pub.

She slipped out before the pucks had even been dolled out, just to see if she could beat him to the bounty.

The little cat-and-mouse game that ensued was fun for a while, following him at each job, finding ways to toy with him a bit while he hunted for a new target. At some point, she realized he was letting her, and it became more of a flirtation than a competition. The game got closer and closer until he caught her, and it finally came to a head.

And it was...fine. It was about what you could expect from being with a Mandalorian. Direct, impersonal, all just rather cold in the end. Really, the one thing that made it enticing was how he had guessed her Mandalorian background without her needing to say anything. That little rush kept up her interest for far longer than she should have stuck around. She hadn’t even gotten a name out of him and would just refer to him as Black Jack to keep herself entertained.

They were on the tail of a prison escapee, one more stop amongst a to-do list of bounties. It was easy enough to find the man; he had gone straight back to his home and family after breaking loose.

When they found the bounty working in his fields, he seemed resigned to his fate.

Black Jack was blunt as always with him. “Don’t slow me down, and I’ll bring you in alive,” he warned the man. Neera knew some had taken that warning for mercy when really he just didn’t want to deal with the hassle of dragging a dead body around.

The bounty nodded, then looked back at the house behind him. “Can I just go in and say one last goodbye before you take me in,” he pleaded.

“No,” Black Jack said.

The man looked like his heart had sunk, but then he nodded anyway.

The man was putting up hands for the restraints when they heard a small voice calling out behind them.

Neera watched as a young boy was running up to them, desperate to see his father. Black Jack just ignored it and went to prep the bike.

The bounty’s head whipped around at the sight of his son. “Please, just one last goodbye.”

Neera watched the young kid's face. The kid was sobbing, running after them with a little toy he clearly wanted to give to his dad.

“We can spare a minute,” Neera pointed out while Black Jack prepped the bike.

Sighing, Black Jack turned around once he was done with the bike and saw the bounty still not ready to leave.

The bounty was squatting down to the ground, arms outstretched to embrace his son when the blaster went off.

Neera jumped. The boy had stopped in his tracks and was just standing there, mouth agape, staring at his father’s dead body now lying in front of him.

Black Jack holstered his blaster. “I told him not to slow me down,” he said.

Neera slowly turned to stare at him.

Bending over the bounty’s body, Black Jack looked up at Neera. “Get his feet,” he demanded.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Pick up your own damn mess. I told you not to kill him.”

He grumbled something, dragging the body onto the bike by himself while the kid still stood frozen there.

Later, Black Jack found Neera nursing a drink outside the bathhouses.

He stopped at her table. “Are you coming back with me, or what?”

She rolled her drink in her hands, staring into the liquid. “Eh...Probably not. It’s just that I’m pretty sure you’re a psychopath.”

He stared at her for a moment, then shrugged.

“Fine,” he countered, “but if you’re not coming back with me, I’m taking a part of your share for the brothel down the road.”

That made her give a cynical laugh.

He grabbed a towel from the nearby armoire and started towards the baths. “Make sure no one comes through this door while I’m in here,” he added.

“Sure thing,” she said.

When he went through the door to the baths, she got up and shoved the heavy armoire against the door to block him inside.

On her way out, she told the owner to make sure no one disrupted him for the rest of the day.

Then she took his bounty, took the money, gave half to the kid, and took the rest to pay the only three prostitutes on the planet to take a few days off and join her at the nearby resort town. They spent the next few days eating good food and drinks and laughing at each other's stories.


	10. Sequel: You need to tell me these things

The kid ran ahead towards the creek, the little boat Neera had bought him clutched in his hand as he brushed past the ferns. Neera had been bringing him back a lot of toys lately; Din wasn't quite sure where she was getting the extra money.

They had been hiding out on this planet for the last few weeks while they figured out what to do next. Neera would head into the nearest town for supplies for a few days while Din and the kid stayed out of sight.

The planet was pleasant, peaceful...and painfully boring. It gave him far too much time to think, and it was starting to grate at him.

Whenever he was left with hours alone to fly the ship, he would fall into old ways of thinking, doubting things, wondering how this was ever going to work, that they were going to run out of things to talk about. Having the kid with him was different; the tiniest gesture could make the kid happily coo back at him. Hell, finding a new button on the console was enough to keep him entertained for hours.

But then when Din would drop down below when he heard Neera wake up to take over. One of them would make some comment, and the back-and-forth would start. A poke at his chest, an incredulous scoff in response, some response shot back while he found himself tugging at the corner of her shirt. They would be pushing against each other until it inevitably came to a head. Afterward, it would once again be that comfortable, relaxed silence when things would feel simple again.

And now she was disappearing to town for days, supposedly to pick up supplies and any news. But she always seemed to be gone longer than necessary...and then there had been the traces of wiped off lipstick he had noticed more than once.

Ahead of him, the kid had suddenly stopped. He seemed frozen there, staring at something in a small pool at the bank of the creek.

Din went to see what he was looking at, then immediately pulled the kid away.

A head stared back at them, eyes lifeless from where it was half-submerged in the water.

Picking up the kid, he shoved the body over with the front of his boot.

He immediately recognized the familiar clean slash across the man's chest.  
\-----------  
Neera was pulling her satchel over her head after her return from town when Din walked into the room.

"Do you have something you need to tell me?" he asked.

She laughed. "Probably," she admitted.

"We found a head while out walking today," he explained in a clipped voice.

That made her glance up. She studied him for a moment, looking like she was gauging something.

"There might have been a bounty hunter I took care of on an earlier trip to town," she admitted.

He sucked in a breath. "You probably should have told me that."

She shrugged. "You seemed stressed lately. I didn't want to worry you."

"That's not—" he started. "I haven't been stressing about bounty hunters."

"Then what?" she looked confused.

He didn't know how to respond to that. Instead, he shifted on his feet.

"Just...you need to tell me these things."

"Fine, I promise to tell you next time," she assured him, bending down to tug the kid's ear while handing him a bright red ball from her bag.

"That must have been traumatic for him, seeing a decapitated head," she added while she watched him play with his new toy.

Din stared at her.

"I didn't say he was decapitated," he pointed out.

He could see her hand slow as she continued unpacking her bag. "...Hmm?" she asked, pretending to be distracted while unpacking.

"I didn't say the head was decapitated," he repeated. "The head was not buried well, but it was still attached."

"...huh," she said, clearly trying to think of some sort of explanation and failing miserably. "Weird," was all she came up with.

"Neera…" Din started, "how many bodies are out there?"

She eyed him, thinking for a minute as if counting in her head. "...Three."

"Why did you have to think about that?" he asked.

She shrugged.

He sighed. "Just...tell me these things," he said again, then went to clean up. "And bury them a bit better next time."

"Oh, I don't leave bodies anymore," she assured him.

That made him stop; he backed up to turn towards her again.

"I'm going to rephrase the question," he said carefully. "How many bounty hunters have you taken out since we've been here?"

She stared at him again. "...Nine," she finally admitted.

"You've killed 9 bounty hunters since we've been here!?"

"No," she scoffed. "I don't kill all of them. I usually let one go if there's more than one, plus some are just doing a job."

He stared at her, waiting.

She sighed, setting down the package of tools he had asked her to buy. "Only the first few were for him," she explained. "After that, I started putting out tips that other bounties were here...and then I jump anyone that shows up. That way, word will get out that any news of a bounty here, including the kid, is just a trap from some crazy prostitute robbing bounty hunters."

He sighed. "Why a prostitute?"

"Cuz then they'll have to also be wary of the prostitutes here and be less interested in making the trip."

"Or you'll just get the psychopaths who are looking for the excuse to violently put a woman in her place," he pointed out.

"Oh no…" she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Wouldn't want to accidentally take out someone like that."

He rubbed his head. "So the money?"

"I needed to make it look realistic," she defended herself. "Most of it goes to the cantina owner who sends them my way."

"You probably should tell me these things."

"Sorry," she said defensively. "I'm not used to coordinating with someone else."

"What if one had gotten past you?" he pointed out. 

She scoffed. "They wouldn't have gotten past the perimeter I set up." Then she realized her mistake. "...also, I set up a perimeter," she admitted.

He didn't say anything for a beat. "...How did you not trigger the catch in the woods?" he asked a bit reluctantly.

A crooked smile played on her lips. "Did you also set up a perimeter?"

He was silent for a moment. "...Yes."

"Didn't tell me about that either, huh?" she pointed out. 

There was no response, and she went back to unpacking while trying not to smile. 

Din shifted on his feet, then sighed and plopped down at the table next to her, watching her as she continued to unpack.

"...You could at least share some of the action," he finally added.

She finally cracked a smile. "You getting a little stir-crazy too?"

He gave a little affirming shrug.

She leaned forward and tapped the armor on his shoulder. "We don't want anyone knowing there's a Mandalorian here. That means learning to fight without the armor."  
\-------------  
It was late when they got back from practicing, still debating strategy while getting to bed.

"You keep squaring off and bracing for the hit," she argued, sitting on the edge of the cot as she took off her boots. "You're just going to end up shot."

"I don't think turning to my side like you said is really going to help much," he pointed out.

"No, so don't put yourself in a position to get shot in the first place. You can't just stroll up and be the badass that boldly faces off with people anymore."

"Well, that takes the fun out of it," he realized as he fell back on the cot.

She turned to finally lay down and found him taking up the whole bed. With an annoyed look, she gestured for him to scooch over and make room.

It seemed to take more negotiating than usual to both fit on the small cot, finally finding something workable by lying on their sides, her back to him with his arm draped over. Lying there, they both seemed to realize at the same time that this was the first time they had simply gone to bed together, instead of collapsing into after sex or doing a quick swap while taking turns flying. Somehow that seemed important.

Now they were both lying there, wide awake.

She broke the silence first. "Think this is going to last long enough to justify building a bigger bed?"

He was quiet for a bit, his voice hesitant when he finally spoke up. "I already had you pick up the materials on your last trip," he said. "I was just missing one tool."

"Oh," was all she said, suddenly noticing the box of supplies that had been sitting in the corner.

They were both quiet again.

"It's not that big of a job for me; it'll only take a few hours," he explained.

"Sure," she said.

Quiet.

After a beat, he raised himself up a little bit, trying to get a glimpse of her face.

"Are you smiling?" he asked, squinting at her in the dark.

Silence for a beat.

"...no," she responded unconvincingly.

He relaxed back down. "Yes you are."

There was a soft laugh in response. Then she reached up to entwine her hand with his while they lay there together.


	11. Sequel: Got any friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> starting to mix in a little bit of Season 2...it *kinda* works

Din heard Neera and the kid come back in from their little training session.

The kid sauntered up to the cockpit, clutched at Din’s boot for something resembling a lazy hug, then rolled into the pram with a content little yawn.

“Tough day training, huh?” Din asked.

The kid just smacked his lips and cooed something before letting his eyelids drift closed.

Din dropped down below and was surprised to find no sign of Neera.

He turned the corner and finally found her…sprawled out on the cot, not even bothering to take her helmet or armor off. It looked like she had been dragged through the mud, one side of her armor smeared with dirt, bits of grass and soil smashed against her knee.

Din leaned against the side of the door frame with a smirk.

One of her arms gave a half-hearted accusing gesture in the direction of the cockpit. “...that kid,” was all she got out before her arm dropped back down to the cot.

“Did you get beaten up by a baby again?” he teased.

Her only response was an exhausted middle finger.

“Just can never tell what you’re thinking with the helmet on,” he quipped.

There was an exasperated grumble in response. He shifted to lean back against the cot, taking one of her legs that dangled off the edge and lifting it to start working at the laces of her boot.

Tugging off the first boot, he looked at the streaks of mud spread across her side. It looked like she had been dragged across the ground at high speed.

His eyes narrowed. “Did you steal my jetpack again?”

There was a pause.

“...no,” she responded unconvincingly.

“Did you at least refill the fuel?”

Another pause. “...yes.”

He sighed, setting down the first boot before going for the laces of the next.

When she felt him starting at the buckle of her belt to help her out of the mud-caked pants, she sighed. “I was really looking forward to coming back and having some sex, but I can barely move.”

He tugged off the pants, folding them and setting them aside to wash later, then bent to kiss her hip bone.

When he pulled up to the end of the cot, she half-heartedly lifted her head up, then laid back down with a short laugh. “What are you doing?”

“Training,” he said.

There was another laugh, then a groan. “...so cheesy,” she complained.

He went down to kiss the inside of her thigh.

She lifted her head again. “I seriously might fall asleep at any moment,” she warned him.

“That’s fine,” he said. “You don’t need to do anything.”

She was silent for a bit.

He looked up at her briefly when she hadn’t said anything in a while.

“Want me to stop?” he asked.

“...no,” she admitted, an extra hitch in her voice.  
\-----------  
Later, he handed her a compress for the nasty looking bruise on her shoulder.

She held it against her arm and sighed. “I’m never going to be good enough to fight that Thing.”

“You just need to keep working at it—” he started.

She gave him a look. “No, I don’t do false modesty. The abilities the kid has, other Jedi...I’m never going to get anywhere near that.”

He paused to think about it.

“You once chose the trainer who would challenge you the most; how is this different?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Because I understood the work I had to put in to get better. I have no idea how to even put effort into these kinds of powers.” She sighed. “I missed my opportunity to train when I was younger. I’m never going to be some Jedi warrior, never going to be good enough to protect him, and we can’t hide here forever.”

He paused to think about it.

He sighed. “No, maybe not,” he admitted. “But Mandalorians were once a worthy opponent of the Jedi, right? So maybe just focus on being a good Mandalorian.”

That seemed to make her happy. “Though Mandalorians could only really hold their own in a group,” she pointed out.

He frowned, considering. “Got any friends?” he asked.

She laughed. “Not really. Only other Mandalorians I still know either stick by the old traditions and may not help us, or are just psychopaths hiding behind the armor...and we don’t really want their help.”

“The Armorer?” he suggested.

Neera shook her head. “She’s kind in the ways she can be but is completely devoted to tradition. She’d rather replace us all with a new crop of foundlings if it meant keeping the old ways.”

Din hesitated this time. “...Paz?” he suggested carefully.

Neera just pointed to the scar on her cheek. “I’m all out of cheeks, and I don’t really want to find out what’s next.”

“I still think you’re wrong about that,” he commented.

She made a face, acting like she was dismissing it but then readjusting the compress on her shoulder. “That...stung. I’m not really eager to test things out with him any time soon.”

Din thought for another minute. “Do you know Bo Katan and her crew?”

Neera looked up at that name and nodded. “Yeah, I know her… or knew her,” she corrected.

“Is she trustworthy?” he asked.

Neera shrugged. “I can think of some good, some bad. But that was a long time ago.” She seemed to consider something for a moment. “Tell her to come, but don’t tell her that we have the darksaber...or my full name.”

He laughed. “Are you going to be playing the nanny or the prostitute this time?”

“Oooh, how about the sexy, side piece nanny?” she joked. “She won’t be surprised if you have someone to help with the kid, and it’ll make her discount me pretty quickly.”  
\--------------  
Din stood outside the ship to greet Bo Katan as she walked up.

She only showed the briefest hint of surprise when he reached up to take off the helmet to greet her.

“Been doing some introspection, I see,” she noted with a raised eyebrow.

He didn’t say anything and instead just stepped aside to welcome her inside.

Bo stopped when she saw the second, unfamiliar person in the ship.

“This is Neera,” Din explained. “She helps me with the kid. Anything you say to me you can say in front of her.”

Neera looked up with a shy smile as she ladled some soup into a bowl in front of the kid. It always impressed him how she could not only change her appearance but also change her entire demeanor to better slip into the background.

Bo glanced over at Neera tucking a napkin into the kid’s shirt and then promptly ignored her.

Bo sat down and got right to the point. “I heard you killed Gideon.”

Din nodded.

Bo could barely hold back her excitement. “He had something that belonged to me,” she said, looking like she was trying to speak carefully and restrain herself. “A sword. Do you know the history of the darksaber?” she asked him.

“Some,” he admitted. “What’s its importance to you?”

“The darksaber belongs to whoever rules Mandalore. It was mine before the Empire stole it, before they tried to destroy us. If we are to restore Mandalore, it belongs back with me.”

Beside them, Neera made an incredulous noise.

Bo narrowed her eyes at her for the briefest moment, then quickly went back to ignoring her.

“Did you find anything on him?” Bo asked. “It might have looked like a metal cylinder, or just the hilt of a sword.”

“I have a question,” Neera spoke up from feeding the kid a snack. “How did you lose it?”

Bo turned to stare at the source of the interruption. “And who are you again?”

“Neera,” Neera responded pleasantly enough. “Neera Vizsla.”

Bo squinted at her for a moment, then her face fell in recognition. She paused to look around the table, suddenly realizing that she was more outnumbered than she had initially thought.

“I know that name,” Bo said cooly. “You were Pre’s niece. The pain in the ass one.” She gave a dry laugh. “Surprised you’re still alive after all this time.

Neera eyed the more senior woman. “Must have been hard to watch two teenagers almost overthrow your fearless leader.”

Din raised his eyebrows. “She was there that day?”

Neera kept her eyes on Bo. “She was Pre’s right-hand lieutenant.”

Bo looked back at Din, eyebrow raised. “I see you found your Jedi already,” she pointed out bitterly.

Din shrugged.

Bo squinted at Neera. “You had your chance at the darksaber,” she sneered.

“As did you,” Neera snapped, her voice suddenly harder. “And it’s one thing to win it, another to keep it, isn’t that right? I put it down by choice. How did you lose it again?”

Silence.

Neera looked over at Din. “I don’t think either one of us has much interest in the politics that come with ruling.”

Din shook his head in agreement.

“But I will make damn sure it does not go to the wrong person again,” Neera said adamantly. “Think of this as a reminder: I have just as much right to the darksaber as you...as does any Mandalorian. You want it, you need to earn it—again—and continue earning it every day after that.”

Bo sat there, suddenly seeming more tense.

Neera continued, “I know you’ve ruled before. And you might be the best fit. But you should know that there will always be a potential challenger to keep you in line. And the question is, do you think you can win against, not just a Mandalorian, but a force user as well? Because that didn’t work out so well for Pre, did it?”

Bo gave a strained smile in response. “So what do you want?” she asked.

Neera looked at Din and hesitated. “Would you mind giving us a minute?” she asked him.

He seemed a bit surprised at first, then nodded. “Sure,” he said, picking up the kid to head outside.

The two women were left alone at the table.

“You’ll need to convince _him_ ,” Neera said, gesturing to where Din had just walked out the door.

“So then _why_ is he no longer at the table?” Bo asked through gritted through teeth, sick of these games.

“This is a courtesy...to you,” Neera explained. “Because I do remember you helping me in the past. Very soon, he’s going to put together your role in Deathwatch. He’s going to realize your role in making him a foundling...and in the death of his parents. There’s not going to be a lot of ways back for you after that. But telling him yourself is probably one of your few chances.”

Bo looked over at the door through which Din had just left, looking like she was considering something.

Neera watched the older woman “You scoff at his tribe going back to the old ways,” Neera pointed out, “without acknowledging some of the very legitimate reasons they broke from Deathwatch. As extreme as the helmet rules may have been, at least they had honor. You had better be able to prove to him that you have learned to have the same.”

With that, Neera got up to leave.

“You already have it, don’t you?” Bo asked suddenly.

Neera looked at her. “Really not what you should be focusing on right now. You’re about to have a hard conversation.”

“...And you don’t want to keep it?” Bo continued anyway.

Neera shrugged. “It sounds like a lot of work, having to keep earning it every day. I’d prefer to check in on things from the shadows,” she said with a wink. Then she turned to walk out.

“You know your mother was a great mentor to me,” Bo called out after her.

Neera hesitated in the doorway.

“She brought balance to Pre. She was sorely missed when she left with your little brother,” Bo offered.

Neera blinked, then walked outside.

“That seemed like it had an effect on her,” Din said as Neera came to stand beside him.

“Yeah, well, hopefully, she doesn’t call my bluff about being some skilled Jedi because I’m pretty sure she could kick my ass,” Neera admitted.

She stopped to look at him, standing there holding the kid.

“You should go back in,” she told him, voice resigned. “She’ll probably want to talk to you alone.”

He gave her a questioning look, then handed her the kid anyway to walk back in alone.

Hey,” she called out after him. “It’s not going to be a fun talk,” she warned him.

He looked at the ship, then looked back at her and nodded. Before he turned to go in, though, he hesitated when he saw the look on her face.

“Something else?” he asked.

Neera thought back to what Bo had said about her mother, then just shook her head. “...Can talk about it later.”

Then he walked inside.  
\-------  
Neera was floating a ball to the kid when Bo finally walked back out.

The older woman looked at the kid levitating the ball in the air, looked at Neera, gave a curt nod, then went on her way.

When Neera walked back inside, she found Din sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, helmet rolling between his hands.

She grabbed a piece of fruit off the counter and went to slide against the wall next to him.

She handed him a piece and sat there with him for a minute.

“Wanna talk about it?” she asked.

He took another piece of fruit, attacking it with a tense jaw.

“Not yet,” he said.

She nodded, then took a piece for herself.

He seemed to remember the look on her face when she had walked out earlier. “You?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Not really,” she admitted.

They both sat there and ate, watching as the kid decided to try out a piece for himself. His little face immediately puckered at the tartness, and he spit it out, too bittersweet for him. He looked back and forth at them both, as if frustrated he couldn’t join them. Then decided to try another one anyway, wincing slightly as he tried so hard to join them.

Din rubbed the kid’s head with a small laugh, then leaned against the wall and sighed.


End file.
